


ships in the night, night, night

by deadwine



Series: would it really kill you if we kissed? [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: A Raven Cycle AU, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Blue Lily Lily Blue - Freeform, Chwe Hansol | Vernon is Whipped, Fluff, M/M, this is just terribly soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:48:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24242302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadwine/pseuds/deadwine
Summary: Seokmin falls in love with Hansol long, long before he is aware of it.
Relationships: Chwe Hansol | Vernon/Lee Seokmin | DK
Series: would it really kill you if we kissed? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719145
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	ships in the night, night, night

**Author's Note:**

> hello! it took me a while to write part two and here it is! it deviates quite a bit in tone from the scenes in trc but really seoksol demanded that shift.  
> hope you like reading this nonetheless!

Seokmin doesn't like the night. He doesn't like the touch of the night air on his skin or the many sounds emitting from the forest that surrounds his little town and the way the mountains loom even larger in the darkness. The blinking streetlights are eerie and the emptiness of the streets is uneasy- Seokmin scares easy and the night naturally gives way to jump-scares that he would be happy to live without. 

But even he can't grudge a night like this: the roads are aglow in moonlight and the breeze is cool and teasing; the garden tended by the harabeoji who lives alone in the cottage at the end of their lane is blinking with the shine of a dozen fireflies on a night like this, he knows. 

It's one a.m. when Seokmin shows up to the convenience store right outside their neighbourhood, riding his bicycle at a leisurely pace. Hansol flashes him a smile before climbing on to his own bike and following him.

They slowly make their way out of the empty town and huff as the climb starts to get steeper. Once they reach the other side of the hill, Hansol starts humming and it isn't too long before Seokmin joins in, recognising the tune from a drama they have both been watching recently. One song turns to another and before he knows it, Seokmin is belting ballads into the open sky as they ride down the winding road, as fast their feet can pedal. 

Hansol loves nights like this- Seokmin's voice ringing across all that he can see, enveloping them from the loneliness that the dark carries- soft but strong and so, so beautiful; Hansol could never tire of it. 

_Lately-_

Seokmin is terrified of these nights. Not of the cloud cover dipping the mountain roads into haze, not of the silence that pounds in his ears sometimes, steadily growing louder, larger- not even of the tires slipping on the narrow lanes on rainy nights that chill him to the bone even to think of. 

Seokmin fears that no matter how fast they go, his bike will never catch up to the pace of his heart. To the thudding in his chest when Hansol takes his hand easily, as he _always_ has- and Seokmin, he has always loved it, loved Hansol; but the fear- the fear is new and that's how he knows he's in love.

(Maybe these feelings are as old as his old love, maybe he is only spending these nights playing catch-up to his feelings.)

Hansol tugs his hand and Seokmin doesn't remember when their fingers clasped together; it's tender- _painful_ \- how thoughtlessly they do it, how it's like second nature. They turn away from the main road and take a small route into the forest, slowing down when they reach one of the many spots they have discovered over the years- a clearing surrounded by pines on the bank of a stream. 

They place their bikes against the trees at the edge of the clearing and race each other to the bank, plopping down on the grass to catch their breath. The stream gleams in the moonlight, the sounds of the water soft and distant because of a rainless autumn. 

Unbidden, his hand finds it way to hansol's hair, to his honey-coloured locks falling almost to his eyes- he combs them back over and over again, runs his hands through the soft curls and Hansol turns his head towards Seokmin, nuzzling into his hand with his lips curling into a half-smile, more contentment than anything else. 

"Like it?", Seokmin chuckles.

Hansol pops an eye open. "Yeah, hyung," he answers softly and grins at Seokmin, wide and gummy, before he closes his eyes again.

When Seokmin was eleven, he almost drowned out of sheer fear despite knowing how to swim. A raging thunderstorm, Kim Mingyu, a swimming pool and Seokmin's inability to say no to a dare when goaded just right- trust Mingyu to know exactly which buttons to push- combined to make the perfect recipe for an almost disaster. Seokmin doesn't remember choking on water for thirty whole seconds before Mingyu jumped in, too scared to stand by and watch himself. He remembers little of the consequences, of both of them falling sick for a week after. He remembers with vivid clarity the moment before he hit the water, suspended on air with all his senses frozen and his stomach upended, seemingly bottomless. 

Sometimes staring right at Hansol's open mouthed smile feels like that. _This_ moment feels somewhat that. 

"Hyung?" Hansol catches Seokmin's eye, "you're quiet today."

Seokmin hums. Hansol shifts closer and looks up at the sky. 

Seokmin knows he's too hasty, has been told repeatedly at school to think before he speaks- he talks himself into trouble more often than not and he _knows_ the cost of speaking the truth now, knows his eomma's predictions are never to be taken lightly. He's always known but he knows better than ever now, looking into the eye of the storm; after all, he does spend an awful amount of time staring at Hansol, whether or not Hansol knows it.

 _Yet-_ Hansol lies in his arms under a cover of stars. This moment is not new, they aren't here, the two of them for the first time and the grass, too, is well-worn under the weight of many nights spent tumbling over it- _yet-_

"Hansol-ah, I love you."

Seokmin caves.

Hansol twitches in Seokmin's hold, "hmm...me too."

 _What_ -

"No, hansol. I _love_ you." 

"Hansol-ah", Seokmin half-whines when Hansol just hums again, "I'm in love with you." It rushes out of him, a complaint more than a confession.

Hansol looks at him then, still half a smile on his face and slowly runs his hand down Seokmin's cheek. 

"I know, hyung. Me, too."

Hansol's smile doesn't turn bitter or brittle, like Seokmin imagines it would. It's unwavering and as achingly soft as his fingers running across Seokmin's skin. 

Seokmin thinks of eight year old Hansol, newly moved into their town, his neighbourhood; of first meetings that shouldn't have ended in a friendship when they could barely understand each other. He thinks of Hansol holding his hand under the table at lunch, Hansol's first year at school _here-_ when he was just a boy struggling to find his grasp on words that worked for everyone but him. He thinks of Hansol copying the coursework for a year ahead of him when Seokmin caught the flu; making him tea and falling asleep by his side every evening. He thinks of Hansol writing him the lyrics to his favourite English songs in Hangul. 

Seokmin looks at Hansol looking back at him and thinks _oh. You too._

_Yes hyung, I've been waiting for you._

(Seungkwan calls him dangerous, for being a romantic despite having known for all his life that he'd kill his true love with one kiss. He's right, though Seokmin would never tell him that instead ribbing him for playing at being a witch, a sure shot way of getting Seungkwan riled up and distracting him from nagging Seokmin.)

They lie there for almost two hours, talking to each other about their day, Seokmin rambling on and falling silent just as easily. Trust Hansol to take something Seokmin has been wringing himself dry over and to make it seem ridiculously simple, like things with Hansol always are. 

They start riding back before the sky gets lighter, Seokmin hanging back and letting Hansol take the lead. He listens to Hansol sing, deep and reverberating in the quiet. 

(Seungkwan is right. Seokmin doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve like Mingyu does and his crushes aren't public with the rare exception of Jaehyun who put up an admirable front of obliviousness all through ninth grade even though _everyone_ knew _._ But he does fall in love quickly and often. He used to think he was a fickle person- he just happened to like the feeling of being attracted to another person- the uncertainty, the butterflies, the endless daydreaming about possibilities if his feelings were reciprocated. He'd thought of scenario after scenario with every person he was attracted to, of secret getaways and sharing music and going on walks with their fingers entwined.)

Hansol cycles all the way up to Seokmin's house and gets down from his bike. They push their bikes inside and Seokmin locks up the gate. Hansol stands in the shadows looking at him quietly and Seokmin is overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him. 

Something in his eyes must give him away because Hansol steps up and wraps his arms around Seokmin. Seokmin leans in and clutches on to Hansol's shoulders instinctively. 

"Hyung?" 

Hansol places his cheek on Seokmin's for a moment. They don't speak and neither does the forest around them. The thudding in Seokmin's heart stills. 

_Isn't this enough, hyung? -_

Hansol circles Seokmin's neck and rests his head on the curve of his neck, breathing into the hollow there. 

Seokmin is a romantic and a bit of an idiot but not so much that he doesn't recognise the romance in all the big little moments and memories he has created with Hansol for years; if love is _this_ \- the feel of a well-worn pair of pajamas against the skin, the familiarity of a routine crafted over a decade, the sound of laughter travelling down a school corridor- if love is Hansol, here, with him, like this- 

"Can i stay over, hyung?"

They end up in seokmin's room, on top of the covers with legs splayed over each other, long having outgrown his single bed. It's comfortable still, things with Hansol always are. 

_\- It is._

(Hansol loves the night, loves the mystery of it, when it is cloudy and the moon peeks out of its cover only to startle, to throw into light things that remain hidden. He loves hearing the forest, like it's talking to him; a reminder that he lives amidst so many creatures that he's never met, who all speak in tongues that sound as alien as he feels sometimes. But Hansol loves nights like these the most: the air crackles with the spark of something that smells like hope, the beams of light riding the tune of something upbeat as they flit across seokmin's smile- what Hansol loves about nights like these-

Biking through the narrow mountain road, sometimes all the way to the sea, splurging on a sausage or a banana milk if they get too hungry; grabbing onto his bicycle with one hand and grabbing Seokmin's hand stretched out beside him. When Seokmin smiles with his eyes turning into little crescents and says, "you're my best friend, Hansol-ah," and laughs; nights that end with them just like _this,_ curled into each other on Seokmin's bed, breathing in each other's warmth as the first rays of sunlight begin to bleed into the darkness.)

**Author's Note:**

> the title is of course from sweet night by taehyung.  
> seoksol are the softest boys and the seoksol tag on ao3 is so bleak, i really hope i write more for this ship in the future.  
> anyway, if you liked this leave me a comment!
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/deadseoull?s=08)  
> [my cc](https://curiouscat.me/deadwine)


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